


Reduction

by Trojie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's dislocated his shoulder. Again. Sam hates this part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reduction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hoodie_time's latest Dean-centric hurt/comfort commentfic meme, for the prompt "Sam/Dean. Hurt and exhausted from a hunt, Dean's dislocated shoulder needs popping back in, but Sam is all wooby about causing him any more pain, even if it is for the best. Sam's loving comfort of Dean a must, please!". Also fills my hc_bingo square "job-related trauma"

'Sam, will you get your ass over here please?' Dean's cradling his elbow and his shoulder's hanging lower than it should, and Sam silently curses. He hates doing this. Dislocated shoulders are in that special class of injury where you _can_ fix it yourself but frankly you probably shouldn't. Dean's popped that joint so many times, Sam knows exactly the resistance of his brother's ligaments and sinews, knows that this time it's an anterior dislocation, and that he's risking damaging Dean's axillary nerve, trying to brute force Dean's humerus back into its socket - but he _knows_ Dean won't go to the ER. 

He lays one hand above the muscle-mass, nearly on the nape of Dean's neck, as gently as he can. Dean's trembling under his fingers and that could be adrenaline or pain or how close they're standing when they haven't touched in months (Sam wants to, he does, he wants it more than anything but he doesn't even know where to _start_ with the distance between them), and it kills Sam that he has to do this. God, he'd give anything to just stop Dean hurting. 

Dean's still waiting and still in pain, though, so Sam needs to grow a goddamn pair and get this done.

'This is fucking medieval, you know,' says Sam, bringing his other hand up and around. 'We're talking like, Hippocrates, dude. No-one fixes a dislocation like this any more.'

'Shut up and do it,' Dean growls. 

'Will you please let me take -' Sam starts, last -ditch attempt, and Dean shifts abortedly under his hands like he wants to turn and body-check Sam into the wall and make him do as he's told (which makes Sam shiver, too tired to keep his own body under control) but he's too sore to do it.

'I'm not going to the ER, so shut up about it,' Dean says. He's angry. Well, he's in pain. 'And I don't fucking care what the modern medical bullcrap is, I just want to be able to use my arm again -'

Sam thumps the heel of his hand into the soft part above Dean's armpit and feels the humerus glide back into place. Dean curses the air blue for a second and shoves away from Sam as fast as he can, almost bending double then stretching back up again. Sam winces in sympathy with Dean's abused muscles. 

'Thanks,' Dean says, turning back around. 'Even if it did take you a thousand years to man up and do it.'

Sam looks away. 'I fucking hate doing that to you.'

'What? Fixing me?'

'No. _Hurting_ you, you dick.' Sam waits for the inevitable crack about his girl-parts, but it doesn't come. 'It's not just gonna come right every time, Dean. One day you're gonna push it too far, or I'm gonna shove too hard, and -'

'No you won't,' Dean says, coming in closer, close enough to force Sam's head up, look him in the eyes. 'Hey. Sammy. Look at me. You fixed this. You fixed me, yeah? You did good.'

'But I -'

Dean pulls him, one-armed, into a hug, and Sam gives in. Dean's still trembling against him, and they don't touch any more and Sam doesn't know why because when he wraps an arm around Dean's waist Dean practically melts into it. 'I dunno about you,' Dean murmurs into Sam's chest. 'But I'm beat.'

It's a shut-down, and Sam knows it. They're not going to talk about this. But this is already better. 

'Bed?' he says instead of anything else he could say, and tries not to freeze up with tension because he really wants Dean to come to bed _with him_ , let himself be held for once in his goddamn stubborn life, but Sam's not going to push this.

'Thought you'd never ask,' Dean says, and something in Sam clicks and slides back into place with a pop, just like Dean's shoulder. 

It's a stupid method of dealing with their issues - pretend it never happened, go to bed. Hide under the blankets. It's medieval. It'll just end in more damage someday down the line when they're overstretched and underprepared, and they'll never be able to fix it if it goes that far - but it works.


End file.
